Come on hawk,I did'nt invent that famous quote.I think it came from the Irish.Now they have a very warped persepective on death.
I had a work mate here at the moving company about 12 years ago.He was a young salesman,bright guy,young family and doing pretty well.
His passion,however,was firearms.From paint guns to Colt 45's,he was into it.He also wanted to be cop in the worst way,to be able to be a armed protector.He told me as much.
He finally became a reserve in Palo Alto,and he was in heaven.
The World cup was held in the US in,I think,94.Big security concerns around here as Stanford hosted many match's.
In their wisdom,the local cops decided they needed to do security drills on public transportation.
I was leaving for Greece for vacation,and I had Ted(my friends name)look after some work for me while I was away.
I returned 3 weeks later,and Ted was dead.
He had been involved in the security drills,this one on a train.As a rookie reserve,he was playing the role of one of the bad guys.All the weapons of all the officers had been checked prior to the start of the drill.
Just one hitch.The officer in charge of checking all the weapons checked everyones chamber but his own.He had 1 round in it.
It ended up in Teds chest,and killed him instantly.
Live by the sword,die by the sword.
His death was a direct result of his fixation on guns,which led to being a cop,which led to an orphan son and widowed young wife.